


You cling on to all the good times

by moya



Series: Purple [2]
Category: Glee, X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Empathic making-out sure sounds awesome, Empathy, Kurt gets whumped! again, Kurt is loosing it, M/M, Not a crack fic, Psychic Violence, Sort-of-frottage?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 14:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moya/pseuds/moya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"They came at night, when the adults were away. They shot them in their beds and if someone managed to run away, they hunted them down in their own home like they were nothing, but animals. Like they were not human at all".</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	You cling on to all the good times

 

 

Kurt always liked to believe that he was more than good at keeping his concentration in check. It was always necessary when perfecting dance steps or scales of his own voice until he had a total command of it. It certainly helped him when he had to do some cramming for tests, no matter how unchallenging his previous school was. He even had enough control of his used-to-be-unstable powers, keeping his empathy in check most of the time.

But now, pressed into a cold nook between the wall and a door to one of the dormitories, he felt shaky and unsure and so fucking _scared_.

They came at night, when the adults were away. They shot them in their beds and if someone managed to run away, they hunted them down in their own home like they were nothing, but animals. Like they were not _human_ at all.

He could feel Puck’s hand squeezing his, trying to keep him stable until they got out, until they were safe. Mercedes was gone, teleporting to god-knows-where, trying to find and alert the missing professors. He had no idea what happened to Artie, Tina or Matt and he remembered seeing an unconscious Santana and Brittany being carried away by the men dressed in black. Finn and Quinn were pressed tightly into the wall next to them, both with wide, scared eyes and vulnerable expressions on both of their faces. Numbing waves off fear were coming off them like an unpleasant odor.

Kurt gritted his teeth tightly trying to ignore everything, focusing on Puck’s touch desperately trying to ground himself.

Puck told them few minutes before that he had heard Logan’s angry shouts somewhere on the lower floors and then there was a sound of gunfire tearing through the silence of the night. It meant help was on the way, but they still saw black shapes stalking through the shadows, waiting for any of them to become a clear target.

Kurt could feel his control shaking, as if it was something physical, something he could hold in his hands. For a brief moment he could _feel_ it slipping away from his grasp and shattering into million pieces. All the fear and pain and panic of dozen of kids pressing on him, building up a blinding pain that crushed his temples, inducing white-hot bolts of agony from behind his eyes. The hate and disgust from their attackers churning in his gut, making him want to throw up just so he could get rid of that sickening feeling. The negative emotions, the whirl of angry, aggressive colors were making him dizzy and confused. As Logan went through their attackers Kurt could feel the fleeing emotions of dying people and he never felt anything so terrifying in his life.

He felt sick, so sick and tired he just wanted it all to _stop_.

“Hummel!” Puck’s hard, but still calm voice hissed next to his ear, cutting through the disorienting feeling of water closing around him. He just shook his head, struggling against the comfort that would come if he had just let it go. It would be easy to allow the water to submerge him and cocoon him against the world. The relief would be only momentary, but there was anger and death and so much pain that he was willing to do almost anything to make it stop. “Keep it together!”

“I can’t,” he whimpered, doubling over in effort to reign in his powers. He could feel the wave of fear from Quinn and Finn, both afraid of what he could do if his control slipped.

It came like a crushing silence overlapping his senses, making him blind, deaf, and mute all at once. He couldn’t allow it to happen, to hurt other people, even the ones raiding their home. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut holding in his empathy as much as he could, feeling it struggling against the barriers of his mind. He tried harder forcing it back down and then... he could feel his powers coming to a halt, as if they were frozen and for a moment Kurt thought that Xavier was finally there stopping him just in time, but it felt wrong, different from what he knew.

And then the pain came, the wave of power he struggled to contain turned inwards crashing back into him and coiling around his mind like a snake. For a second of clarity, Kurt could remember Professor Xavier telling him how his ability could backlash at him if misused, but then all he could think of was _pain_.

He was aware that someone took him into a nearly-crushing embrace and that there was a small hint of comfort, calmness, and love coming through to him, but it wasn’t enough; not enough to cut through the hate, fear, panic, fury and _death_. He could feel strong hands on his back, trying to calm him down. It wasn’t enough to overlap the amount of emotions running through him and the pain that was physical, almost cutting him up from the inside.

Last thing he was aware of was something stabbing into his upper thigh – but it barely felt like a pin prick among the sea of suffering he was in - and then the blackness that overtook him.

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

To say that Puck was furious would be a serious understatement.

They were hiding in a fucking _forest_.

There were barely two dozens of them, twenty kids in their pajamas and sleeping gowns that were in turn scared to death and angry. The only adult among them was Mr. Schuester, their languages teacher, but he wouldn’t be much of a help now as he was concussed and barely conscious. Schuester was one of few non-mutant teachers employed in Xavier’s school, along with Ms. Pillsbury and Ms. Beiste.

The younger kids were crying, clearly panicked and older students tried to calm them down without needing to be told. Puck’s classmates were among the oldest, but a lot of them were missing – Santana and Brittany included and he had not seen Matt, Tina or Artie in their little crowd, so he assumed they were taken as well. Puck wiped his face tiredly, thinking about what to do next and noticed Finn coming up to him. The other boy’s hair was plastered to his face, the light drizzling rain making them all wet and uncomfortable. The others tried to take refuge under trees, but it wasn’t working out that well.

“How are they?” Puck took a deep breath, trying to ignore the twinge of his bruised ribs. When the soldiers came into his room he only managed to avoid the darts that shot out into his direction by falling out of his bed and building a wall between them using the surface of the floor. He had fallen badly though and his ribs felt like they were on fire every time he took a deeper breath.

“Tommy, Ricky and Lisa are going to be alright, whatever was in those darts only made them sleep,” Finn said, referring to the three kids that were taken out by their attackers. Puck felt a wave of anger coming over him – they were a few of the youngest kids in the school. His own sister wasn’t much older then them. “And Puck... I’m not sure what’s going on with Kurt. You seem to know the most about empathy out of all of us; maybe you can figure it out.”

Puck nodded and followed the taller boy. They made their way across the forest floor, wet plants and tall grass clinging to their legs. The rain wasn’t stopping, but at least it didn’t seem to be developing into a storm. Finn led him towards small cluster of pine trees whose branches reached the ground. Under one of those trees he saw the sleeping kids, Quinn and Lauren looking after them along with Mr. Schuester, who was still barely coherent, but slowly getting better. He moved some branches away so he could get into the second improvised shelter.

Back in the school he knew Kurt was going to hurt himself if he tired to keep his empathy in, but he couldn’t stop it. It was just by pure luck that Logan had made it to their floor at the same time, taking out their attackers. He had held Kurt in his arms, trying desperately to project some of the positive feelings towards him, lessening the impact of his empathy lashing right back at him, but it wasn’t really working. He called out to Logan, pointing at the dart pistol of one of the fallen soldiers and thankfully, he seemed to understand his intention right away. Logan reloaded the gun quickly and emptied the full dose in Kurt’s thigh. Puck gasped out in relief when Kurt sagged in his arms, going into deep sleep immediately, stopping him from hurting himself _and_ others along with him. Logan pointed them out towards nearest hidden corridor, making sure they got out and then hurried to get rid of the rest of their attackers.

He thought that the boy would sleep for at least a couple of hours, enough for them to figure out what to do; find refuge and wait for their teachers, but Hummel was not cooperating. He was lying on the soft padding of dry pine needles, enough to isolate him from the cold ground and someone had covered him with a warm wool jacket, but he wasn’t sleeping, not really. He was restless under his covers making soft moans of distress. Peter was kneeling next to him, confused about what he could do to help, but trying to stay calm for Kurt. Puck was glad he was the one taking care of Kurt until now – the impossibly tall boy was one of the most composed and collected people Puck had ever met.

“Let me see,” Puck voiced kneeling down next to him as Peter made room for him.

Kurt’s face was ashen and contorted in pain, hair plastered to his skin with sweat. When Puck held his hand gently to his forehead to check for fever, Kurt jerked his head away with a keening moan.

“His barriers are gone,” Puck muttered, not liking the way Kurt refused any kind of touch. He vaguely remembered the last time his mother had been in the same state. It was so many years ago and his memory was more then little fuzzy. “Right now he’s reading all of us and can’t shield himself from it. Twenty people, all scared and angry.”

“Would it help if we moved everyone away?” Peter was still crouching next to them with worry on his face.

“Yes, but he would need a really long distance and we can’t separate right now.”

He was about to say something else, but Kurt chose that moment to wake up. His eyes flew open and he looked disoriented for a moment before shutting his eyes tight again, face scrunched up in pain.

“Kurt, it’s okay, it’s okay, calm down.” Puck held the other boy’s face gently trying to stop him from tossing around. “You’ve got to stay calm, dude, or else you’re just gonna make yourself sick.”

He had said that in a wrong time, because Kurt’s face had gone from grey to green in matter of seconds and Puck was turning him on his side quickly before he choked on his own vomit. Kurt’s body protested against more abuse as he shook violently, stomach emptying its contents on the ground next to him. He batted weakly at the hands holding his shoulders, but Puck was not giving in. He tried to stay calm as he held the other boy, lanky body shaking in his arms.

“It hurts,” Kurt gasped weakly when the heaves finally stopped. Puck shot Peter a grateful look when the other teen removed the soiled pine needles from their shelter getting rid of the foul smell. “Make them stop... make them stop, please...” He cried out, fingers digging into his temples, as if trying to physically remove the pounding in his head.

“Hey, hey stop, you’re only going to hurt yourself more. C’mon, enough,” Puck gently pried the fingers away and instead turned the smaller boy around so he was facing him. “I know it hurts. Your barriers are destroyed and you need to build them back up again. It’s going to be alright. The teachers will find us soon, okay? You have to hold on until then.”

“I can’t,” Kurt sobbed, curling around Puck as he held him, arms and legs shaking with muscle spasm. “I can’t... I felt them Noah, they were dying and I felt every second of it and...Oh god,” His body protested as he tried to retch again, but all that came out were dry heaves.

“Here,” A second voice from behind him got Puck’s attention. It was Finn, holding one of the dart pistols to him. “I took this while we were running... thought we might have to defend ourselves out here too, but I think he could use it more.”

“We can’t just keep him drugged,” Peter protested weakly, not liking the idea. Puck checked the magazine – it still had four rounds of darts left.

“At this point it’s better than nothing,” Puck’s lips narrowed into a thin line.

Kurt was asleep just seconds later.

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

“Are you insane? You can’t go back there!”

Mr. Schuester was awake and trying to take control over the makeshift camp they made as he was the only adult among the kids. The angry and worried scowl on his face clearly said he wasn’t enthusiastic about their idea.

“We don’t really have a choice,” Peter protested and Puck was glad that he and Finn had his back on this.

“Going back there, right now, is too dangerous. We don’t know if they are gone,” Schuester shook his head disapprovingly. “I’m not risking any of you. We’ll wait here for Charles – the safety protocols the Professor set up are clear enough – until one of the senior staff tells us it’s all clear.”

“Permission to speak freely, Mr. Schue?” Puck crossed his arms on his chest, angry expression of his face. When the teacher nodded he quickly continued. “Waiting here is more dangerous than heading back, at least for some of us. Don’t you understand? Unless we do something Kurt is done, because his barriers are completely shot. It’s been eight hours and we’ve been keeping him sedated through most of it, but he’s doing worse with every minute.”

“There is always an option of going to a hospital to keep him under, if that’s really necessary.”

“Are _you_ insane?” Puck hissed, momentarily ignoring the displeased expression on Schuester’s face. “You take him into a normal hospital with people in pain, afraid, and _dying_ and he’ll go crazy. Hell, he’s already halfway there as it is.”

“He needs someone with a psychic power,” Peter glanced back at the pine shelter where Rachel was tending to the young empath. They could hear his soft keens of distress and it was unsettling to people in close proximity, since Kurt was clearly projecting back some of the negative emotions he was reading from them. “Preferably Ms. Grey or Professor Xavier, but anyone would do now. None of us can help him with his shields.”

“Besides,” Finn butted in. “Invisible guy here. I can do recon without anyone knowing I’m there.”

Schuester didn’t look too convinced.

“Please,” Puck decided that pleading was his last resort. Puckzilla _did not_ beg. “We have to do this. Otherwise we might just kill him right now,” He kept his cool while Finn gave him a startled look and Schuester sputtered in shock. He didn’t bother to wait for the teacher as he tried to form a response. “If we don’t do something his mind is going to turn his empathy on him and fry the synapses in his brain. It’s a really nasty way to go.”

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

When Kurt emerged from the black tar pit of unconsciousness that he had fallen into during school’s siege his first immediate thought was that he finally was free of pain. For one short moment he thought that it might finally be it, his power had killed him and while he didn’t believe in heaven or hell, he thought he might be suspended in some kind of limbo.

His dark thoughts were scattered quickly as a warm hand closed on his forearm and gave a gentle squeeze.

He forced his eyelids to move and though it seemed like they were glued together, eventually he managed to open them up a little bit. All he saw was a very blurry silhouette of a man and white-grey background around him. He blinked slowly, trying to clear his eyesight and it seemed to work, since the silhouette sharpened into image of Puck.

“Wha—” He wanted to ask what was going on, but his throat was dry and it hurt to speak. When he tried to move he was startled to find out he was unable to as his limbs felt like they were made of lead.

“Shhh,” Puck slipped one of his hands under his neck to cradle the back of his head in one large palm and raised him upwards a little as he brought a straw to his lips. He was a dead weight in Puck’s arms, limbs slack and unresisting when he held him close. “Just sip it. You better not get sick again, Princess.”

Kurt wanted to glare at him, but lacked energy to do more then blink and focus all his attention at drinking some of the offered water. It was cool, but not icy, soothing the burn of his throat and spreading in a chilling wave in his belly.

“Okay, easy,” Puck carefully laid him back on the pillow taking care to angle his neck just right, so he wouldn’t have a crick in it later on. Only then did Kurt take a moment to look at their surroundings. He was lying in hastily made bedding consisting of a thick mattress, a couple of soft blankets, and comfortable pillows. The room they were in looked distinctively like one of the underground rooms in school, the kind where only the X-men used. Kurt had seen them only a few times since students were not allowed in the underground, but the white-grey metallic shine to the walls looked exactly the same. The room was large, round, and completely empty save for his makeshift bed and a couple of items on the floor like the water bottle and a book with dark red cover.

“ _The Catcher in the Rye_?” He rasped out pleased that his throat stopped feeling like it was on fire.

“What? I read,” Puck scowled but didn’t look offended. “Had to do something to kill time while you were taking your beauty nap.”

“How long?”

“We came back around eight hours after the first attack and you’ve been asleep for another six after we brought you in. Mercedes teleported out right after they came; turns out she went to Matt’s dad – he’s a senior police officer in next town – and alerted him to what was happening. By the time we decided to go back the place was already crawling with cops,” Puck ran his hand over his face, clearly tired. “Matt is missing. His dad has practically gone ballistic. He searched this place from top to bottom, but there’s no sign of him or some of the others.”

It was a good thing that Matt’s father already knew about the X-Men. Otherwise it would be one hell of an awkward conversation to have to try and explain what was going on.

“Taken,” Kurt didn’t have energy to form full sentences, but thankfully Puck seemed to understand.

“Probably. Mr. Schue got a call from Logan about seven hours after everything went FUBAR, but we still don’t know what’s going on or when they will be back. Professor X is missing as well.”

“Underground?” Kurt murmured, eyeing their surroundings.

“Yeah. Peter remembered how Ms. Grey once told him that training facilities block out any input from outside and that it more or less works as a suppression chamber. We figured it was your best option until they come back.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow at him in silent question and Puck just grinned.

“Yeah, I was surprised too. Turns out they’ve been grooming Peter to join them for weeks now, only he was a stingy bastard and didn’t tell anyone,” He laughed. “But I guess it makes sense. He’s the oldest one here and his powers are actually pretty damn useful in combat.”

Feeling a little bit of strength coming back to his limbs, Kurt raised a shaking hand and grasped Puck’s arm with clumsy, uncoordinated fingers. A shudder ran through him when he felt his empathy connect and a deep feeling of relief and content blossomed in his chest. White and grey tendrils of aura shot from underneath his fingers and wound their way around his wrist and Puck’s arm.

“I can still read you,” He whispered drinking in the calmness and peace, feeling it rush through him and settle deep into his bones.

“Yeah,” Puck replied covered the trembling fingers on his arm with his other hand, allowing Kurt to take whatever he needed from him. “Your shields are completely gone and there’s nothing we can do about it except to separate you from others. I stayed to make sure you don’t keel over from dehydration after you wake up,” He rubbed the fingers lightly, making Kurt shiver. “I’m guessing the room suppresses your empathy pretty damn well, but you can still read me if you touch me?”

“Yeah,” Kurt nodded lightly, taking all the positive emotions Puck had offered. It was rejuvenating, so refreshing after hours of pain. It was also a little too much, that rush of emotion and after few moments is started to almost burn with the incredible intensity. He pulled his hand away, letting it fall back to the bed. He blinked sleepily as the connection between them was cut and it left him with absolutely no energy once more. “Too... too much. Sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Puck settled next to his mattress with his back propped on one of the pillows and reached for his book again. “It’s best that you get some more sleep. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

“Read it to me?” Kurt blinked quickly few times, trying to shake off the sleepiness clinging to his eyelids. When Puck gave him an amused look he managed to glare just a little, daring the other teen to make fun of him. Puck just snickered and turned back to his book, quickly scanning the page to find the place he finished reading.

“ _Everybody’d think I was just a poor deaf-mute bastard and they’d leave me alone. They’d let me put gas and oil in their stupid cars, and they’d pay me a salary and all for it, and I’d build me a little cabin somewhere with the dough I made and live there for the rest of my life. I’d build it right near the woods, but not right in them, because I’d want it to be sunny as hell all the time..._ ”

Kurt fell asleep within minutes.

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

The next time he came awake he was a little more alert and the scary heaviness of his limbs was gone. Unfortunately, that meant the muscles that he could move once more were sore and cramped as if he had been running for hours.

When Kurt opened his eyes he wasn’t really surprised to find out that they were still in underground. He had no idea how many hours had passed – it was impossible to define the flow of time in the white-steel coldness of the room.

Puck was still there, half-leaning, half-lying on the edge of the mattress near his knees, book still in hand, but there was a small bowl resting on his chest supported with one of his hands. He must have made some kind of noise, because Puck turned to look at him.

“Hey. Feeling better?”

“A little,” He rubbed the remains of sleep from his eyes and winced when he felt the pull of a sore muscle. “I feel like something ran me over though. What the hell?”

“Yeah, probably muscle spasm from earlier. You weren’t exactly still when you were unconscious,” Puck put aside his soup and book sitting up next to him and picking up a different bowl that Kurt didn’t notice before. “You think you can eat anything and hold it down? Ms. Pillsbury made some quick chicken soup.”

Kurt nodded and took the offered bowl, raising a little and supporting himself on one elbow. His hands shaking only a little – it was nothing compared to his earlier jittery movements. The soup smelled good and it made him realize how painfully empty his stomach was. The broth was clear and probably would not argue with him.

“How long was I asleep this time?” He took a spoonful of the soup and the flavor melted deliciously on his tongue. Puck gave a half-amused snort when he moaned in content and drank some more.

“Little over seven hours since we last talked,” Puck glanced at his watch and only then did Kurt notice that he must have changed while he slept, because he was wearing different clothes. Looking down at himself he noticed he was dressed in clean clothes as well. Definitely not the same ones he went to sleep in before the attack. _Huh_. “It’s almost 9 pm now.”

“Puck?” He interrupted. “What happened to my clothes?”

Puck looked surprised at the question for a moment.

“We camped in the friggin’ _forest_ for the night and it’s been twenty hours since the first attack. You were sweating like a pig and I’m sorry to tell you this, but dude, you _stank_.”

“I do not sweat like a pig!” Kurt’s indignant protest was a little more high-pitched then he would like. “And tell me it wasn’t _you_ who changed my clothes.”

“Sorry,” Puck grinned, not looking like he was apologetic _at all_. Kurt just looked at him with silent fury in his eyes, but the effect was spoiled by the lovely shade of pink that crept up his neck and face. He finished his soup in silence, eyes downcast.

“Look,” Puck sounded a little frustrated and resigned at the same time. “You needed help and I was here, so I helped. Lying on the forest floor didn’t do you any favors with your clothes and would you really preferred it if I let you sleep in dirt?”

“No, I guess not,” Kurt shook his head and sighed. “How come you’re so good at this bedside manner of yours?”

“Done it before,” Puck just shrugged. “Some time ago when my little sister was sick with pneumonia I had to take care of her, since our ma was working two shifts to support us. I did learn a thing or two then.”

Kurt nodded in understanding and set away his bowl. The soup warmed him from the inside and soothed down the pang of hunger that was nagging him. With a wince when his muscles pulled, he moved the blankets away and prepared to stand up.

“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Puck pushed him back onto the mattress, hand on his clothed chest and avoiding touching skin.

“Bathroom,” Kurt explained, slightly irritated at how easily Puck could manhandle him back to bed. He thought he was a little stronger then before, but obviously it still wasn’t enough.

He only blinked when Puck handled him an empty water bottle and then blushed furiously when the realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

“I’m not going to pee in a bottle!”

Puck was enjoying his embarrassment way too much.

“Not like I haven’t seen it before.”

“Oh fuck,” Kurt covered his face with his hands, the tingling of his skin a clear sign that he was red as tomato by now. He didn’t curse often, but you didn’t hang out with redneck mechanics in your father’s garage for half of your life without picking some of it up. He could feel the battered remains of his willpower breaking and he never paid much attention to what he was saying when he was tired or worked up. “I got stuck with the worst caretaker in the entire _universe_.”

“Relax,” Puck laughed at his distress. “I think you’re good enough to move around a little. There’s a bathroom with showers just down the hall. You’re probably going to feel the others when we leave the room, but the younger kids are already in bed and the rest of them you can handle.”

It was easier said than done, but with Puck’s help Kurt managed to crawl out from his cocoon of blankets and letting the taller boy support him he made it through the corridor at a snail’s pace. One arm wound around Puck’s neck, the other holding to the strong arm that was embracing him by the waist, he managed to shuffle his feet and walk, despite the wobbliness of his legs. Puck was right, the moment they left the room he flinched as if he was slapped when the landslide of emotions piled onto him. It wasn’t bad, not as bad as he could vaguely remember from before and most of the emotions flowing into him were either good or neutral. There was some anxiety there, a little bit of fear and worry, but it wasn’t anything overwhelming. He tried not to read into the waves of emotions too much but he closed his eyes when the sudden residual feeling of _death_ reached him.

“It’s okay,” Kurt’s small moan of distress caused Puck to tug him in closer, the hand around his waist inching a little bit higher and slipping under the hem of his shirt, resting lightly at the skin of his hip. That little point of contact was enough to push back the sickening feeling that made his gut twist. Reassurance, strength, and confidence flowed into him and with a little glance towards the joining place he saw tendrils of white and green twisting around them.

They made it to the bathroom and Puck led him into one of the stalls, standing outside with his gaze averted, but holding onto one of Kurt’s hands when the empath refused to let go.

The way back to the room wasn’t any easier. The little trip seemed to exhaust any energy that Kurt had as the muscles in his back and legs protested sharply at any kind of movement. He was flushed and panting by the time Puck helped him lower himself back to his improvised bedding.

“You know, since the empathy comes from my mind, I really don’t get why it’s my body that hurts the most,” He flopped back onto pillows, gratefully accepting the water bottle Puck handed him and took two small sips.

“Like I said, when you were unconscious you were pretty restless. We could see all those little spasms that made you shake. You only got some rest when we doped you up on sedatives, but you never stayed under for very long.”

Kurt groaned and flipped slowly to lie down on his belly to elevate some of the pressure from his sore back. He was almost dozing back to sleep when he felt a weight moving to the top of his thighs and yelped in surprise when he realized what it was.

“The fuck are you doing?” He winced when the curse word slipped from his mouth and thought that his father would wash his mouth with soap if he heard him now, but he was really too tired to care.

“Helping…hopefully,” Puck grinned at him from where he was kneeling halfway on his thighs and tugged at the hem of his shirt. “Off.”

“Umm, no, I don’t think so,” Kurt twisted to push him off, but that only made his back flare up in pain and with a hiss he laid back down and went still, completely boneless.

“Don’t be a douche,” Puck flicked his ear and grinned when Kurt swatted weakly at him, missing his mark entirely since his face was still planted in the pillow. “I can see you’re cramping like crazy and I bet it hurts like a son of a bitch. So take the damn shirt off and let me help.”

Kurt did nothing for a moment, wanting to test the theory that if he played dead then Puck would leave him alone, but no. With a defeated sigh, he jerked his shirt upwards, totally ignoring Puck’s snicker when it got stuck and tangled in his elbows for few seconds. Tossing it aside (it was one of his plain blue t-shirts, the kind he wore only for jogging, so he didn’t give a damn if it got wrinkled or dirty) he flopped back to bed, hands under the pillow he was resting his head on and gave up trying to protest. That left him wearing only the softest pair of faded blue jeans he owned, the kind you chose because they were comfortable, not necessarily pretty.

The first touch of Puck’s fingers on his back gave him a very mixed reaction. It was a huge relief to feel the emotional feedback linking them once more, all that energy and certainty flowing through his skin, nearly making him hum. But the pressure on his abused muscles was nearly unbearable and he hissed in pain, moving away from the touch and inching higher on a bed just a little to escape.

“Shh, easy. It will get better in a minute. Trust me,” Puck hushed him, gentling his touch to feather-light. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to be still.

It still hurt after a couple of minutes, but not as much as in the beginning, and Kurt found himself relaxing gradually, one muscle group at the time. Tension flew away from him and he surrendered to the touch.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Puck was whispering, something that Kurt found a little strange, but not unpleasant merely adding to his relaxed state.

“Doesn’t hurt now,” he mumbled into his pillow, moving his head a little to expose the back of his neck better. Puck took the hint and moved his hands there. “You can do it a little harder.”

Puck snorted and Kurt could feel a wave of amusement coming over him, cutting through the tranquility and content that Puck was projecting so far.

“Perv,” Kurt muttered, making the other boy laugh and smiled into his pillow. He was glad he had someone like Puck in the school. Someone who understood exactly what was going on with him and his freaky powers and was almost at the same age as him; someone who knew how to keep a tight reign on his emotions and give away exactly what he needed. Kurt knew his father was doing his best to understand who he was now and did his best to educate himself, to truly comprehend what it meant to be an empath, but it was hard.

“Hmm…” Puck hummed a little when a feeling of happiness bloomed in his chest, followed closely by thankfulness and appreciation. “You’re welcome.”

And wow, this non-verbal communication could become Kurt’s favorite thing _ever_.

Puck’s hands were working on his back, kneading away the knots and warming up the places that hurt the most. The pressure was digging deep into his skin, removing the tension that made him feel like a coiled spring just few minutes ago. Kurt gradually grew more and more boneless and his own happiness blurred his vision with purple and he didn’t hesitate to project it back at the other boy. For the time being everything was pretty damn good in Kurt Hummel’s world.

He thought that he might just fall asleep if the massage continued, but then Puck’s hands hit a particularly tense knot in his lower back, smoothing out the stressed muscle there and the wonderful feeling of being pain-free escaped him in form of a long, breathy moan.

The sharp, clear stab of arousal in his belly made him snap his eyes open and jerk away from his near-sleep.

Puck froze above him.

Slowly, so very slowly, Kurt half-turned under Puck, twisting his upper body so that he could turn around and look at the other boy. Puck’s eyes were wide in shock, as if he only realized what he had let out for Kurt to read and he opened his mouth to say something, maybe deny everything or say some crude joke to try to cover it up. Only then he realized that his hands were still touching Kurt’s sides and he jerked his hands away.

Kurt didn’t really think about it, he just reacted. Quickly grasping Puck’s hands he prevented him from moving away. Puck went still, still hovering over the smaller boy, his eyes not leaving Kurt’s own baby-blues when the empath placed his palms back on his skin.

He shuddered under the weight of emotions that ran through him. A lavender-colored affection that seeped deep into his skin, the appreciation and purple happiness, all mixing with dark pink love and lined with lust and arousal, both of them in deep magenta. The vertigo or warm colors blending in front of him made him slightly dizzy.

Puck’s expression when he read him was open, unguarded and even of Kurt couldn’t read his emotions, his eyes were still an open book to him.

“Oh wow,” He gasped out, suddenly hoarse, hands still covering Puck’s own fingers touching his skin. “I... really?”

Puck only nodded, still silent, apparently as spooked by his own lack of control as much as Kurt was.

Kurt thought about how a couple of months earlier, just barely weeks before his powers manifested for the first time, he thought he had seen the exact same emotions in the eyes of another boy from his school. Blaine was a handsome and elegant guy who seemed to like him back as much as Kurt liked him. The nearly endless dance they did around each other eventually resulted in them kissing in the backseat of Blaine’s car and Kurt thought he had hit the jackpot. The romance that bloomed between them, the discreet glances at school and messages left in lockers, the kissing, making out after school, and even one rushed mutual handjob in the janitor’s closet during lunch break – it all left Kurt drunk with love and so just so damn _happy_.

Then Karofsky and Azimio ganged up on him and he snapped and hurt them so much they ended up in coma for a couple of days.

When he was holed up in his home after he was released from hospital, he thought that Blaine might come to see him, at least once, but that never happened. Kurt remembered how much that hurt, that feeling that he was a freak that no one wanted to be associated with, but Blaine’s rejection was the worst. He even forced himself to write a couple of texts to him, but never got a reply. Back then he thought it was pathetic, clinging to hope that someone who was obviously repulsed by you or afraid of what you could do would still love you back. In the last text he had ever sent to him, he simply wrote ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’. An apology for everything – for being a freak, for making him scared, for nagging him with stupid pleas for affection. That one got a reply and Kurt’s heart surged for a brief moment, only to see ‘ _I’m sorry too_ ’ flashing on his screen.

His father didn’t say a word when he asked him for new cell phone, having thrown the old one at the wall so hard it was beyond repair.

But Puck was different. Puck knew who he was and what he could do. He knew him at his best and at his worst. He could offer him support the way that no one else could and at the same time he could rile him up so bad Kurt wanted to smack him stupid most of the time. He had seen Kurt throw bitch fits of epic proportions when things didn’t go according to his little masterminded plans and he had seen him puking his guts out, unconscious and sick to the bone. He knew how empathy became an important part of him, and that he could not separate himself from it any more.

“Why now?” Kurt frowned. “Why haven’t you said something before?”

“My control slipped,” Puck smiled a little sheepishly. “I never wanted you to know.”

“Why not?”

Puck swallowed and almost looked away, but Kurt pinned him in place with the intensity of his stare.

“So you wouldn’t freak out?”

Kurt just blinked, confused for a moment.

“You do know that I am as queer as they come, right?”

Puck gave a small bark of laughter, but there was a hint of desperation behind it.

Kurt pressed in harder, reading more into the emotions he could feel, trying to make sense out of this whole bizarre situation. And then he found it, buried deep in the other boy’s mind; the uncertainty, the soul-crushing longing, and the need that rattled in him. He pulled thoughts back abruptly, startled by the intensity of it all.

“I’ve never felt anything like it before,” Kurt gasped, taking few deep breaths to steady himself, observing the wisps of pink and violet undulating lazily around their hands, still joined on his skin, braced on the lower parts of his ribcage.

Slowly and tentatively he pushed back, reaching through their connection to the other boy showing him what he felt. Puck shuddered when a deep pink tendril carefully wound itself around his arm and chest. His own hands moved and Kurt let them go, letting his arms fall back to bed. Puck’s fingers hovered for a moment above his ribs, his touch almost feather-like. Then more confidently, he pressed gently against his skin and moved upwards, petting his sides, smoothing over his collarbones and shoulders and ending up caressing the slender neck. Kurt tilted his head up giving him more space and inviting him in.

Puck leaned forward, his palms still cradling his jaw and neck and kissed him.

It was a little like a lightning shock, the sudden flare of the link between them. Kurt let his eyes fall closed as he focused on Puck’s mouth, overwhelmed by it all. Puck’s kiss was gentle and slow, barely pressing their lips together, at least until Kurt felt the thread of arousal between them quiver and couldn’t help to project it right back. Puck moaned against his lips and Kurt opened his mouth more, letting him in.

And wow. If he thought before that making out was the best thing _ever_ , then making out with his empathy buzzing on full power was something else entirely. He remembered what Puck and Xavier told him before, that when his shields were down he was taking in everything that other people were feeling and projecting it right back at them, which created the endless loop of emotions, good or bad. This... this was definitely of the good kind.

‘ _Like fucking perpetuum mobile_ ,’ Kurt thought and the idea of it made him giggle against Puck’s mouth. The other boy broke their kiss and raised an eyebrow at him, but Kurt merely shook his head.

The lust and want he could feel from Puck fueled his own desire and he pushed it back through their link, not surprised to find Puck more than receptive to his emotions. Puck raised himself again, until he was leaning over his thighs once more and ran a steady hand over Kurt’s chest. The skin tingled where he touched it and Kurt arched into his palm, wanting and needing more. The light touches were almost enough as they ghosted over his arms, stroking over his chest with an accidental brush of a nipple that made him gasp, caressing his neck like it was the most sensual part of his body. Kurt reached towards the other boy, pulling him in for another kiss and didn’t protest when Puck latched onto his neck soon after that.

“Oh!” A slightly high-pitched squeak escaped him when Puck nipped at his skin but quickly forgot about the scrape of teeth when the other boy moved to give one of his nipples a slow lick. “ _Noah_!”

Calling him by his real name apparently did something to Puck, because the desire that was between them surged up even more. It was amazing to feel everything he gave out returned to him and projected back and forth. Just a little bit of touching was enough to make Kurt hard as rock, feeling drunk on the emotions running high and the colors swirling around them like crazy. Kurt wiggled a little, enough to give Puck a hint that he should move and when the other boy did so, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his legs firmly around his waist.

“God,” Puck half-laughed, half-moaned when their groins pressed together in most delicious way. “The things you do to me right now...”

“I know,” Kurt panted, clawing at Puck’s t-shirt and pulling it off with impatient fingers. “I can feel everything,” He said in amazement. “Is it always like this? With the empathy?”

Puck hitched one hand behind Kurt’s thigh and used the leverage to press himself in harder, his cock pushing against Kurt’s ass, making the empath jerk in his hold and moan.

“Probably, if you let your shields drop,” He ground down with his hips, pressing one palm over Kurt’s quivering belly, fingers splayed wide and feeling the silent tremors that ran through the empath. Kurt’s head was thrown back a little, soft locks spilling over the pillow in messy halo, hands scraping the sheets underneath them. “God, you’re so beautiful like this. I bet that right now I could make you come without even touching your dick.”

“Ngh!” Kurt’s broken moan escaped his lips and Puck could feel sharp stab of need cutting through him. “Do it.”

Puck shuddered, and then leaned in to suck at Kurt’s neck a little more. His hips were held in the vice grip – Kurt had lean, but muscled thighs of a dancer and enough strength in his lower body to hold him exactly where he wanted him. Puck’s hands didn’t hesitate to travel back to Kurt’s chest, running over the nipples in lazy circles with just enough pressure. He circled the small nubs lightly and then thumbed over them more roughly, shaping them in tight little peaks, making Kurt breathless. By the time he was taking one of them in his mouth, Kurt was making those greedy whimpering little noises, the ones that traveled right to his cock.

It wasn’t just touch though, not really. The thing that seemed to be influencing them the most was the rollercoaster of emotions crushing over them. Kurt could read his need all too well, basking in it, making himself go crazy just a little bit more and sending it back doubled rich with his own arousal. It went on endlessly, strengthening the sensations between them.

Kurt figured that it was what it felt like to be high – completely without control of his actions but loving it anyways, surrendering to the onslaught of emotions and feelings until he couldn’t hear anything else but the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his chest, couldn’t feel anything other then the glide of Puck’s hands over his heated skin and the wave after wave of need that pooled low in his belly and then went straight to his cock.

“Ah!” Kurt cried when one of Puck’s hands slid down his side and cupped his ass firmly, kneading one cheek slowly with firm pressure. “Oh-- More! _Please_ , Noah!”

“Yeah,” Puck said a little breathlessly, teeth grazing over one taut nipple, his free hand rubbing the other, twisting it a little in his fingers as Kurt arched into his touch. “Gonna make you come so hard, Kurt. So hard and so good that you will forget your own name.”

“Yes!” Kurt was close, so very close that it physically hurt to stay hard for so long. His legs were still tightly wrapped around Puck’s waist, but the taller boy stubbornly refused to grind against his cock, choosing to play with his ass instead. “Close... Shit, so close, just a little harder, _please_...”

“Yeah, just let it go, baby,” Puck left the reddened nipple alone and moved to suck lightly at Kurt’s right ear, licking the delicate shell. “I’ve got you, you can let go. Come for me Kurt... let me feel it.”

“Oh!” Kurt cried out at the particular hard grind and the intense, pure sexual need that ran through him. Puck encircled his waist with one hand, holding him close, while the other was still caressing his ass. “Oh, oh _fuck_ , Noah!”

Kurt grasped at him and suddenly they were close to each other, as close as they could go. The empath pressed his face into the crook of Puck’s neck, arms circling his shoulders and legs wrapped around his waist and he clung to him with all his strength as his climax hit him. He gave a mewling barely audible moan and the fine tremors shook him right to the core.

Puck could feel him coming, projected too strongly that if they hadn’t been isolated he was sure the entire school would be able to feel it. The rush of the orgasm hit him like a hammer in the chest and he shuddered in Kurt’s desperate hold, clinging just as hard to the other teen and feeling himself come in his jeans.

He was sure he blacked out for just a second, but then the sensations came back in the rush of sound and emotion. Kurt was panting hard, his breath hot against the skin of his neck. They both relaxed in stages, gradually unwinding themselves from each other but not letting go completely.

Puck kissed him with slow little pecks and lazy dips of the tongue as his hands ran over Kurt’s sides, feeling the heaving breaths calming and the hammering in his chest winding down. Kurt didn’t seem to mind that the other boy was still resting mostly on top of him.

Puck rested his forehead against Kurt’s, breathing slowly. He could feel the satisfaction burning through his veins, the happiness that enveloped them both.

“So...” He murmured against Kurt’s lips as he sucked in the bottom lip and the empath gave a little satisfied hum. “Still the worst caretaker in the entire universe?”

Kurt laughed, giving a half-hearted attempt to push the other boy from him but not getting anywhere with it.

“You’re such an ass,” he huffed, but there was no sting to his words and his hand ran lazy circles over Puck’s collarbone. “I can’t believe we just did that…with all those kids upstairs,” Kurt gave a small, shaky laugh of mortification as he wiped his face from sweat. Then he glared at Puck. “And I can’t believe you made me come in my pants without doing _anything_.”

“I’d say I did a lot,” Puck nuzzled his cheek with the tip of his nose and it made Kurt smile fondly at the hopelessly romantic gesture. “And in the future I want to do more things to you. A lot of filthy, deprived, immoral things.”

Kurt shuddered with need, despite coming just few minutes ago.

“It’s a promise,” Kurt grinned, letting him know how he felt through the link still pulsing between them and Puck laughed at the touch of happiness and content.

Yeah, this non-verbal communication thing was definitely Kurt’s new favorite thing _ever_.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Spoilers:** No real spoilers for Glee (unless you don’t know who Blaine is, lol), minor plot spoilers for ‘X-Men 2’
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters or the universes.
> 
>  **Beta:** devlinnreiko
> 
>  
> 
> I took some liberty with deciding how many hours passed between attack on the school in ‘X-Men 2’ and the ending of the movie. I mean, the attackers came at night, then visit in Bobby’s house happened during broad daylight, then night again when they talked with Magneto and daylight once more when dam collapsed. So they were gone for AT LEAST day and a half if not more.


End file.
